Jonah Lomu at Twickenham, London in 2002, before an All Blacks v England match. Photo: PHOTOSPORT
First person - Eight years ago, Craig Norenbergs took the last known photograph of Jonah Lomu, and the All Blacks legend has been wandering through his mind's eye ever since.
During his rugby playing career, the All Blacks legend cut a swathe through the world's best defences.
He scored dozens and dozens of tries during his club career, while his 37 at international level displayed him at his magical and fearful best.
YouTube has loads of them.
His four tries against England, at the World Cup in 1995, leaving players in white sprawling in his wake, is comedic and awesome at the same time.
He also had the happy knack of popping up at the right time, to win games for New Zealand at the last minute.
Witness his victory-sealing try against the Wallabies in 2000, in what's been described as "the best match ever".
I interviewed him a few times during my journalistic career, and found him an engaging and truly humble person, given his immense fame and popularity.
Sadly, the great man died in 2015, at 40 years of age.
He'd just attended the 2015 World Cup, in England, followed by a holiday in Dubai with his family.
And this is where my small part in his life story came into focus.
I moved to New Zealand, from Australia, the year before Jonah's sudden passing.
On 17 November, 2015, I went to Auckland Airport to pick up media colleague and friend, Bridget Tilley, whom was visiting from Sydney.
As I waited with dozens of other people at the terminal, the main arrivals doors slid open, and a 1.96 metres (6 foot 5 inches) giant made his way out.
It was Jonah.
Necks craned and fingers pointed.
Keen to post the celebrity sighting on social media, I pulled out my mobile phone and snapped away.
I took three photos of the big fella pushing a trolley full of luggage.
I posted the best one on Twitter (known now, of course, as X), with the words, "All Blacks rugby legend Jonah Lomu at Auckland Airport with 8 large suite cases. Man loves to shop!"
The spellcheck changed my correct spelling of "suitcases" to "suite cases".
As Bridget came through the same doors, and I was anxious to greet her.
Thinking the spelling mistake wouldn't matter, and with no time to change it, I sent my message onto the Twitter feed, a moment to sit on my timeline, probably forgotten in an hour or two.
Or so I thought.
One day later, 18 November, Jonah's heart gave out on him, and the sporting world wept.
It turned out my little photo of Jonah was the last known picture of him.
It went viral and was featured across the world's top media organisations.
I had messages from the BBC, CNN, Fox, ESPN, all the big organisations, asking permission to reproduce my tweet.
Of course, I said yes. Anyone could use it.
In the eight years since, I've watched Jonah and his luggage move through the arrivals hall of my memory hundreds of times.
Should I have gone up and said hello?
Should I have filmed it, rather than snap it?
Should I have tried to do a quick interview?
Or maybe it was a nice way to remember him. In the photo, Jonah looks relaxed in jandals, baggy shorts and t-shirt.
He's home and happy, standing out in the crowd, and pushing forward.
Just as he did on the rugby field. A fitting way to remember him.